Today I watched the beginning of a miracle. Working in adoption is hard. It’s filled with joy, but it’s also filled with grief and brokenness.
So much of the work done in adoption is done prior to the delivery of the baby.
It’s careful consideration on the part of the expectant mother. It’s looking at all the options and who is on her team. Who will be there to help with parenting, survival, emotional support?
It’s equally careful consideration on the part of the adopting parents. Is adoption a calling? Is adoption a choice because of infertility? Do the adoptive parents-to-be understand that the child will always be a part of the birth parents, even if they do not see them often (or even at all)?
And then there is placement.
One family says “good-bye” to a child they have only met, and another says “welcome home”. “Bittersweet” may be the word that best describes the emotions swirling around placement time, but it only begins to scratch the depths of the emotions involved.
Then time passes and life happens.
The child grows and matures, as do both sets of parents. From toddlerhood to adulthood, adoption remains with the both families, and is always a part of the child’s identity. Emotions ebb and flow.
As an adoption professional, I’ve been on the preparation end of the process for more years than I care to admit. As an adoptive parent, I’ve watched my girls navigate the ups and downs of childhood and adolescence, and then I’ve watched them become mothers. But I’ve seldom had the privilege to be a part of an adoption reunion.
That is changing.
Today I watched two mothers come together after more than 20 years apart. The foundation is being laid for the child who is now an adult to meet the family that created her.
Questions will be asked. Answers will be given.
Maybe—just maybe—some of the broken pieces will be made whole.
Wishing you all grace and peace — Diane